I couldn’t sleep last night. My eyes were glued to the screen of my laptop, watching the United States turn red. I was hopeful, telling my worried sisters that it’s still too early to decide a winner. And even after the announcement that Hillary called Trump to concede, I was in denial and became numb. I was still numb when I woke up this morning after only a couple hours of tossing and turning.
Shock. Anxiety. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Disappointment. Devastation.
These emotions were blocking the very deep sadness I felt within. I knew I wanted to cry. No, I needed to cry, but… nothing. It wasn’t until I got to work and our Executive Director said it’s okay to be whole and to be human that the sadness finally escaped and tears flooded out.
I just can’t believe it.
What. The. Fuck. America. You fucked up.
I am not mourning because the person I voted for did not win. It wasn’t about Trump or Hillary. It wasn’t about Republicans or Democrats. It was the horrifying realization that half of Americans voted for someone who stands for racism, misogyny, xenophobia, Islamophobia, and homophobia.
“It’s because Trump is not with the ‘Establishment’ and he’s going to take power from the government and bring change to the working middle class.”
You mean the White middle class? Or the 1%?
“So, why do you worry? You’re from a blue state. It’s not going to affect you that much.”
I may be from a blue state, but I live in the red part of my blue state. Trump received majority of my county’s votes.
With a President-elect who has openly encouraged violence, mocked those with disabilities, and pledged to ban Muslims from entering the US, among many others things, how should many of us feel? The fear of being a woman, minority, LGBTQ+, Muslim, undocumented is so real for many of us.
I do not fear Trump as much as I fear half the citizens of the United States who believe his rhetoric and campaign. To know that people in my community—neighbors—could carry these sentiments is frightening.
“But they’re just words.”
Words can easily transpire into hostility and acts of violence, especially now that many feel emboldened.
I mourn, not only for myself, but my friends and family, my kids, my coworkers and colleagues, my neighbors, and the community. I mourn for everyone who fear for their safety because of all the hatred this man has spewed in the last year. I mourn for those who are worried about the future. I mourn with all who are mourning.
I am hopeful that with the proper people behind Trump, he could be a successful President. His victory speech talked about reaching out for guidance to those who did not support him to create a great place for all Americans. Let’s hope he does that.
Senator Sanders stated on Facebook, “To the degree that Donald Trump is serious about pursuing policies that improve the lives of working families in this country, I and other progressives are prepared to work with him. To the degree that he pursues racist, sexist, xenophobic and anti-environment policies, we will vigorously oppose him.” And I agree. We will only fight harder for social justice.
However, I need some time to process what has happened before I can accept the President-elect. As John Pavlovitz stated in “Here’s Why We Grieve Today.”
We’re not angry that our candidate lost. We’re angry because our candidate’s losing means this country will be less safe, less kind, and less available to a huge segment of its population, and that’s just the truth.
Those who have always felt vulnerable are now left more so. Those whose voices have been silenced will be further quieted. Those who always felt marginalized will be pushed further to the periphery. Those who feared they were seen as inferior now have confirmation in actual percentages.
Those things have essentially been campaign promises of Donald Trump, and so many of our fellow citizens have said this is what they want too.
My heart hurts. How can one cope with this immense feeling of hopeless devastation?
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